From the Knife Block of A District 12 Butcher
by GokaiYellow
Summary: The last thing Anthea Galloway thought she'd be doing was volunteering for her nemesis's younger sister. How did a butcher's daughter end up surviving the worst live event to become District 12's first victor in the 17th Hunger Games?
1. Chapter 1

"You know what's worse than coal dust under your nails?" Lily loudly asked her cronies. "Dried pig's blood like Anthea Galloway!"

Her friends snickered loudly as they walked past me, Lily leading them with a hand tossing her golden blonde waves over her shoulder. They continued into the school building, commenting about me and what family I'm from – I am the daughter of the butcher.

"Only a priss like you could afford a leg of a pig," I muttered darkly. Yeah, for a whole pig, you had to be filthy rich like the Capitol clowns who could afford to waste their lives on nonsense. Besides, we didn't have tons of pigs in District 12 – goats, wild turkeys, chickens, and wild dogs, yes. Sheep, cows, those were either cooked up in some fancy Capitol dish or raised in the pastures of District 10. Honestly, did stupid Lily Kilburne realize that?

As I walked up the steps, I heard a voice in my ear say, "Just because she's the candy shop's third daughter doesn't mean she's any bright."

My head snapped to the side to see it was Cia, a younger girl who was my friend. Then my other friend Kern brushed past me and pinched his face to mimic Lily's.

"Oh look at me! I'm Lily and I'm special because I work in Mommy's sweets shop. That's why my head's so big and must be filled with fluff!"

Cia giggled and I snorted at Kern's terrible impression. But I had to hand it to him and Cia for trying to lighten the mood. As we headed into the hallway, Kern and I continued further into the building and bid Cia goodbye as her classroom was toward the front of the school.

"Another day, another lecture about coal," Kern groaned as he headed for his classroom.

"Or about Panem and the Capitol again," I reminded him.

Kern scrunched his nose up and looked up at the ceiling. "Don't remind me about that – it only reminds me about the Hunger Games and the reaping next week."

The Hunger Games. Those three words struck fear and concern in the hearts of all the citizens in District 12. Heck, every other district, save for 1, 2, and 4, feared the Games because it meant another year of watching young kids who were either your friends or neighbors fight against others in a controlled arena until one was left standing. All of this began after the original 13 districts decided to rise up and rebel against the Capitol. However, the Capitol put down the rebellion and destroyed District 13 as an example to remaining 12. Thus they implemented the Hunger Games as a punishment to the districts to remind them of the rebellion and how the Capitol was able to use their power to control the innocent kids of the districts. Typically Districts 1, 2, and 4 produced fighting machines that won every Hunger Games, with an occasional victor from another district. Except for us – District 12 continues to have tributes who are clueless and hapless with weapons and usually end up dead on the first day of the Games. Mining coal and blasting really doesn't train anyone for the games like District 4, which specializes in fishing.

"Let's just get to class," I mumbled. "We can talk later."

Kern bid me goodbye as I reached my classroom and I took a seat in the middle of the room. As I waited for our teacher arrive, all I could think about was the reaping and everyone I knew.

* * *

"What did your class talk about today?" Kern asked as we exited the schoolyard.

I was about to answer when Cia ran up to us and answered Kern first. "Sorry I'm late!" she huffed. "But my teacher accidentally let it slip that she knows what District 11 is like."

Kern snorted in disgust. "Uh Cia, everyone knows what District 11 does for the Capitol – agriculture. That's not news to us."

I elbowed Kern and glared at him for being rude. "Continue Cia," I prompted.

Cia waited until we were far away from the schoolyard and by the backdoor of her home, the district's bakery. She double checked to make sure that no one was spying on us and began.

"Apparently she visited a distant relative from a long ago marriage some years before the rebellion," she said in a hushed tone. "Even then, the people in that district were under brutal conditions. We're talking fences that are always electrified, Peacekeepers watching everybody as they worked in the fields, and oh, the fields are massive! She said they run for, gosh miles, I guess!"

Kern and I looked at each other. I wasn't surprised about District 11 being big, since it is their job to supply crops for the Capitol. Kern asked Cia if her teacher said more and she continued.

"Punishments are harsher there too," she said, "if you don't produce enough crops or pick enough to reach a certain quota per day, you are whipped publicly in the square and everyone has to watch. It's horrible, don't you think? They really don't get to eat the crops they produce because its all for the Capitol and some of the better districts."

"Hmmm," Kern mused. "Guess living in this miserable slice of Hell isn't so bad compared to being watched by vultures raised as the Capitol lapdogs. But even we have whipping as a punishment, so that doesn't surprise me."

"I'm more concerned about your teacher Cia," I said. "If kids start talking to their parents and everyone else about life outside District 12, she could be in danger of being...forced out from her job and maybe the district."

Cia paled at those words and she begged us to keep the matter between the three of us. "She's a sweet lady and she didn't know any better! I guess she was just trying to make class more interesting and put it into perspective that our lives here aren't so bad as we think they are."

Kern nodded as he crossed his arms over his chest. I promised I would keep my mouth closed too. Cia's shoulders relaxed and she put her hands into her skirt pockets. Kern cleared his throat and transitioned into talk about the upcoming reaping and the games.

"How many times is your name in Anthea?" Kern asked.

"30," I muttered. "I wish that we didn't have that rough year with meat sales, otherwise it would have been just 6 this year."

Cia piqued up that she too was affected that miserable year I mentioned and had been forced to take tesserae as well.

One "benefit" of the Hunger Games is the offer of entering your name more than once in exchange for extra grain and oil. This is known as tesserae and while it may be an incredibly small amount that can barely last a family a year, every little bit helps. You can enter your name as many times as the number of family members you have. However, the entries from tessera accumulate like your standard entries into the games as you grow older.

"Hang on Cia, I thought you and your family were doing well with the bakery," Kern said. "You're the first case I've heard of a merchant, save for Anthea here, that needed tessera."

"The wheat production was poor," Cia whispered. "Dad had to scrape together whatever he had left in the bags and that wasn't enough to make enough bread to sell. We couldn't make cakes since sugar was low and I was the right age to take out tesserae. None of my two sisters could do it since they were too old to be in the games any more."

Kern let out a huge breath of air he had been holding in and asked Cia to tell him how many times her name was in.

"18," she said.

"Kern, you shouldn't be complaining," I said. "It's your last year to be eligible for the games."

"Yeah but I'm not exactly free if I manage to not get picked this year," Kern snapped. "I still have to go right to work in the coal mines to produce coal to keep those stupid Capitol people warm all the time while we sit and freeze!"

"But you're only in 7 times Kern!" I shot back. "Your dad and mom tried to keep you from having to sign up for tesserae! That's lucky in itself. I couldn't because its hard to have meat come through the door in the first place!"

Kern shook his head and kicked a pebble nearby. He shoved his hands into his pockets and grumbled that he was going home. Before Cia and I could say anything, he turned his back to us and began striding back toward the Seam, an area where the miners and their families lived.

Cia turned back towards me and asked why he was so upset.

"Even though he didn't take out tesserae, his family has an unlucky streak of being reaped into the games and coming home in boxes," I said. "His uncle was in the 1st games and died at the Cornucopia. Then his cousin was reaped for the 5th Hunger Games and she died of a snake bite."

Cia lowered her head and stared at the ground. "I get it now," she sighed. "I don't see why he seems so surprised about me having to take out tesserae. We may have different classes in District 12 but even the merchant class isn't as well off as, say the people in the Capitol. Sugar is expensive and decorating costs more since it takes time and energy to make pretty designs. Speaking of which..." She reached into her bag and withdrew a small packet of beautifully decorated sugar cookies frosted to look like daisies. She offered them to me before digging around and producing a second small packet from her bag.

"This one was for Kern," she said, "but he did walk off in a huff. Maybe you could give him these once he calms down?"

"Sure thing," I said as I pocketed Kern's packet. I tore open mine and bit into the cookie. Crumbly, sugary, and yet so good in a time like this.

"Great job again with these Cia," I said. "I keep wishing that maybe one of those rich fools in the Capitol could see your work and just hire you to do their fancy cakes and sweets. ...Hang on, how much are these in the shop any ways? I don't want your family to lose money that could be on the table."

Cia shook her head and refused to tell me. "They were from a test batch," she explained. "Elsie cooked these too long and I volunteered to take them to do a test frosting on them. The customers who can afford the cookies prefer them to be soft and chewy instead of crunchy all around."

I swallowed and put away the remaining cookies into my bag. "I prefer crunchy instead of soft anyways, so this is perfect," I told her. "Tell Elsie if she overcooks any more of them, I'll take them in a heartbeat."

Cia giggled and promised that she would. She glanced over at the bakery and said that she had to get back to work. "Tell your dad I said hi," she said as she began heading up the steps to the bakery.

"Yeah, yeah I will," I said as I began walking toward town. As I finished my cookie from Cia, I took a closer look at my nails. They were short and cut a bit crookedly, since I borrowed my mom's clippers and cut them in a hurry before preparing a chicken for sale. And yes, they did have some dirt and dried blood under them. The dirt probably came from when I was trying to catch the chicken that a customer brought to me to prepare for his dinner. He was dumb enough to leave the door open and let the chicken escape into the muddy side of the shop. I was forced to catch it and looked like a fool trying to grab it for 15 minutes, before I caught a leg and carried it inside.

"Whatever," I grumbled to myself as I approached the front door of the butcher shop. It wasn't a beauty pageant and I could care less about what stupid Lily had to say about my nails. Not everyone got to have candy dust under their nails like hers.

"Hiya kiddo," Dad greeted me brightly as I entered through the door. "How was school?"

"Same old, same old," I grunted as I dropped my bag onto a chair.

Then Mom appeared from washing one of Dad's nicer shirts and scolded me about leaving my bag out on a chair. I sighed and picked it up, telling her that I'd put it away in my room if she preferred. She gave a sharp nod of her head and I mumbled an apology before trudging upstairs to my room. I ran into my older sister Marigold who was darning a pair of socks for a neighbor.

"Mom gave you the whole 'Put your bag in its rightful place' lecture again?" she guessed.

"Yup."

Marigold shook her head at me and said that she was going downstairs to keep Mom company and out of my hair. I thanked her before nudging the door to our room open and dumping my bag onto my bed. I caught a glance of my appearance in the mirror and snorted like a horse.

If my nails weren't bad enough, so was my hair. I had let Mom put ribbons in it so I would look a little nicer for school than my standard low loop I wore for butcher work. They looked too girly and more appropriate for Marigold's silken tresses of ebony. Mine were black-brown and scraggly, thanks to forgoing a haircut for a long time. I untied the ribbons from my hair and left them for Marigold on her bed. Then I removed a plain-looking hair tie from my dresser and pulled my hair twice through the tie before twisting it a third time and pulling it partially through, making my hair end in a long loop.

I changed out of my clothes for school and put on a plain t-shirt, pants, and my apron colored with rusty stains that my mom tried to get out, but gave up on. Time to do what I was born to do – prepare meat for others.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**: There are references to cutting an animal up for consumption in this chapter.

* * *

"Welcome Gedes," Dad greeted the middle-aged man who entered the shop. "I see we have a turkey this time. Where did you get it?"

"It wandered out of a cut in the fence," Gedes replied. "I had my old man's rifle with me so I shot it. Peacekeepers can't get me 'cause its fair game. Am I right?"

Dad nodded faintly as he wiped his hands clean on his apron. I was preparing a goat that the goat man had given to us, due to its gimpy state after a few weeks. I don't think that anyone really knew the goat man's name or much about him, other than he had a son that sometimes helped sell goats. Whenever they have kid goats born, they raise all of them for a few weeks and begin weeding out the weak ones for meat. I was always dealing with the old man and sometimes he was a nightmare to deal with.

My eyes remained glued to the cutting board even as I paused to find the knife sharpener to give my knife a boost. Goat was easier for me to work with since it tended to be a lean cut, unlike cows found in District 10. Their meat, from what I heard, could vary from being tender to being downright tough to cut. I passed the knife over the sharpener a few times and studied the blade closely before continuing to separate bone from meat.

"Well Gedes I can cut that turkey up for you right now," Dad said as he extended his hand toward Gedes.

I heard Gedes shift his feet uneasily on the wooden floor boards and narrowed my eyes down at the goat.

"I was hoping that Anthea could do the job," he said.

Dad looked over at me and I looked out of the corner of my eye at him. My rust colored iris furrowed at him and he snapped his head back toward Gedes.

"I'm afraid she's occupied at the moment Ged but I can work on your turkey and have her done in a jiffy," Dad said as he took the turkey from Gedes.

"Oh uh, that's okay I guess," Gedes replied. "Should I just sit and wait for it to be done or should I come back?"

Dad was probably surveying the turkey, judging from the silence that settled into the room right now. "Well its a good sized bird and it might take about 30 minutes since there's a lot of feathers to pluck. Up to you though," he replied. "Although if you are faint of heart, I would recommend taking the walk."

Gedes chuckled nervously and he said that he'd stay and wait. I had to restrain myself from rolling my eyes the entire time as I separated out goat meat to become steaks, bone-in cuts of meat, and leftover parts. Give Gedes 5 minutes and he was probably going to end up running for the door clutching his stomach. He looked green the last time he brought me a live chicken to prepare for his dinner. Typical.

I heard the door open and an older woman's voice said, "I'm here to pick up my laundry and goat meat."

I raised my head to see it was Quigley, a woman who sold cloth to merchants and a few lucky Seam residents who managed to scrape together what they had to buy material for new clothes. I removed a piece of butcher paper and began packaging up her goat steaks.

"Can you throw in a bone-in, honey?" she asked me. "My grandson's been working hard, so a little reward for him this month."

"Sure thing," I replied as I added a bone-in cut to her parcel. Then I wrapped the remaining loose paper onto the meat and began rolling it until I was left with a triangle tail. I retrieved a stick of wax and a match, the latter which I struck on the box and held up to the wax stick. The wax began to soften and I quickly brought it over the parcel as it released a few moist drops of wax onto the paper. The wax drops sealed the flap shut and I blew out the flame, tossing the match into the trash can, and putting the wax back onto a damp towel to harden again. I wiped my hands on my apron before walking over and handing over the package to Quigley, who accepted it with a smile.

"I'll tell Marigold that you're here," I said to Quigley as I tapped on the door to our living room. Marigold stuck her head out and I told her that Quigley was here to pick up her laundry. She thanked me and retrieved a neatly tied bundle from the piles of clean clothes ready to go back to their owners. She slipped through the door and quickly closed the door behind her.

"Warning: Gedes is here waiting for his turkey to get cut up," I hissed at her.

Marigold heaved a heavy sigh as she quickened her pace to the front to give Quigley her clothes with a smile. Quigley patted her on the shoulder and told her that she was a dear. As Quigley fumbled with her change purse, Gedes stood up and straightened his shirt to look neater.

"Good evening Marigold," he said. "You are a vision tonight, you know that?"

Marigold pressed her lips together in a thin line and clasped her hands together stiffly. Quigley nudged Gedes out of the way and handed over the exact change plus a shiny silver coin to Marigold as a thank you.

"Use that for your marriage, will you?" she said to Marigold with a wink.

Color flooded into Gedes's cheeks and he stammered his congratulations before sitting down and looking down at the ground. Marigold thanked Quigley before returning to the living room and closing the door behind her. I looked up to make sure Gedes wasn't looking up and smiled a little.

Marigold wasn't married to anyone yet, thanks to Mom being choosy and wanting a proper husband for her beautiful, eldest daughter. Gedes was the stark opposite of what Mom had in mind – he had a reputation for being a gambler, especially during the reaping for the annual Hunger Games. It wasn't uncommon when some men like Gedes would trade bets about what kids would reaped for the games every year and guess on how long they would last. Gedes wasn't married and nor did he have anyone he was seeing, due to his reputation for being one of the more vocal gamblers who would boast about his predictions and the odds of each tribute. Still, it hadn't stopped him from trying to woo Marigold. There were a few times when I was younger and looked like an innocent, precious girl that Gedes attempted to use his charm on me but it failed every time. Marigold and Mom always went out of their way to push Gedes out if he started getting too friendly with me, Mom especially since she worried that he was a bad influence on any child's young mind.

Gedes must have hated how silent the shop was, save for the swift sounds of a knife meeting flesh and bone by Dad's hand, because he raised his head and tried to make small talk.

"Well God's Thunder Anthea! You look taller," he said. "How old are we now, love?"

"17."

"Oh well, some years before marriage is in the cards for this one, eh Dad?" he joked.

"Who marries a butcher's daughter?" I dryly asked him as I put back the carving knife into the knife block with some force.

"Well I'm sure–"

"Anthea's too young to think about marriage," Dad cut him off. "We're more concerned about her progress in school and...the games to be thinking about that."

Gedes shifted in his seat and shrugged his shoulders. He ran a hand through his hair and looked around the shop for a few minutes. Then he began talking again.

"Have you heard about the teacher who broke school curriculum to talk about another district?" he asked.

My insides froze at his question. Cia's teacher. It had been a week ago when she spilled the news to us in private and Cia had seen her teacher every day since the incident. It was the weekend so...

"No I haven't," Dad said as he tossed innards away. "What about this teacher?"

Gedes rested his hands on his knees as he continued. "A teacher talked in great detail about District 11, more so than any other person here knew about. Peacekeepers have been looking her way ever since, but nothing's happened yet. I'll bet you anything–"

"My wife does not allow gambling in this shop," Dad stated. "No betting on anything."

"Or else she'll come flying out at you with a knife," I added.

Gedes laughed nervously and he wiped sweaty palms on his pants. No lie – she has threatened Gedes with her iron before for either flirting with her younger daughter or for starting to say 'I'll bet you anything' in the family shop. Gedes turned toward me and asked if I some how knew this teacher.

"No, all my teacher talks about is either mining, coal, or how 'wonderful' the Capitol is," I said as crossed my arms over my chest. "Nothing exciting ever happens in class any ways."

Dad was nearing the end of Gedes's order and I helped him toss the parts he didn't want. Then I took the damp rag and wiped the board clean in a few swipes. As I cleaned up around Dad's workspace, Gedes cleared his throat.

"Dad, I hope your little girl doesn't stay single as long as Marigold did," he said. "It would be a real shame to see another–"

THUNK!

The knife was about 1" from Gedes's head when it landed in the wall, wedged tightly between wooden boards. His hands were white as they clenched the armrests tightly and his face was no longer calm and collected.

"I'd rather stay single Gedes," I stated as I pierced him with a hateful look. I didn't dare look at Dad, knowing that I had mistreated a customer in his shop which was against his principles of proper customer service. Instead, I saw him packaging up the turkey and handing it to Gedes.

Gedes removed three gold coins from his pocket and shakily told Dad to keep the change. He gripped his packet in his left hand and made his way to the door in a heartbeat, slamming the door behind him.

The living room door opened behind us and I heard Mom shriek, "What's that knife doing in that wall that was built carefully by hand?"

Dad put a hand on my shoulder and replied, "Gedes was here waiting for a turkey to be prepared and he decided to probe Anthea about marriage again."

Mom stormed out of the room and gripped my shoulder as she turned me to face her. "And throwing a knife at one of our customers is an appropriate response?"

Marigold emerged from the living room and came between me and Mom. "Mom, the knife is in between boards. It's an easy thing to grab and pull out without a mark," she said soothingly. "And you can't blame Anthea for doing that – words will only go so far with Gedes and you know that."

Dad turned to Mom and rubbed her shoulder. "Honey, I think its good that Anthea stood up for herself. Maybe that will teach Gedes a lesson about trying to pair himself off with one of my daughters."

Mom closed her eyes and took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. I finally found my voice to explain myself.

"Sorry...Mom I snapped at him because its sick how he keeps trying to flirt with me," I said. "Marigold, I get because she's pretty and they are closer in age. Me, he's looking too hard and in the wrong places. ...It's not like I would have done that with any other customer, I promise!"

Mom pointed to the knife and tried to speak calmly. "Anthea, please just get that knife out of the wall now," she said. "While I'm not fond of your...method you used, I can accept the fact that it was that good-for-nothing gambler you scared off. But no more using the shop's tools as instruments to threaten. ...By the way, young lady, are you prepared for the reactions you might get after Gedes spreads this news? He's got a big mouth and he won't keep it shut for long."

I walked over to the wall and braced my left hand against it as I pulled out the knife with my right. I checked to see how sharp it was and walked back to the block to replace it. As I slid the knife back into its rightful slot, I replied, "Mom, I don't have much of a reputation any ways so he can talk all he want. It's not going to change how I feel about my actions." _Especially with all that talk about Cia's teacher that he mentioned before_, I thought.


	3. Chapter 3

No stares, no whispers among others, no mention of my name any where today as I walk to school. I brushed a strand of my hair off my shoulder and was grateful that Mom forgot about the girly ribbons for my hair. My blouse rose up and I pulled it down as I walked to the schoolyard. Well, either everyone didn't dare try whispering after Gedes told them of his close shave or maybe he had found something more important to worry about. I was worried after he mentioned that he knew about Cia's teacher, especially since hers was one of the smaller classes with only 12 students. Could 12 young students have spread the information around enough for Gedes to turn it into a betting matter to gossip about?

My nose touched the back of a person in front of me and I staggered back slightly. The head turned toward me and I apologized for running into him. He shrugged it off and leaned towards me. "Looks like school might be cancelled today."

"Why?"

He pushed me in front of him and said, "Take a look – Peacekeepers in the schoolyard. When has that ever happened?"

"Never."

"Exactly! But it makes me worried since it can't be good news," he said gravely.

I frowned as I tried to get a better look. Yes, the guy who I ran into was right – there were tons of our Peacekeepers in the schoolyard, some of them lined up in two rows framing the doorway to the building and others standing guard outside. Some of the ones outside looked...different. Almost as if they were brought in from the Capitol, for they had harsh expressions on their faces and hands gripping weapons tightly. When one little boy squeezed through the hordes of long legs to see better, one Peacekeeper poked him back with her gun. "Get back citizen," she said to the boy.

The little boy paled at the Peacekeeper's action and scampered back to find his mom.

"There you are! Come on!" Kern said as he grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the crowd. He began leading me to the front veranda of the bakery and ran up the stairs. Both hands gripped my shoulders and turned me to face him.

"Let me get one thing straight," he said in a hushed voice. "You didn't say anything to your parents or sister about Cia's teacher, right?"

I shook my head no and asked him the same question. He replied that he was mum on the whole matter since all his Dad wanted to talk about lately was how his son should handle his upcoming "entry" into the mines to work alongside him.

I swallowed hard as I stared at the schoolyard from our vantage point. Peacekeepers were leading a woman out rather forcefully with her head hung low. The new Peacekeepers began turning away people and insisted that there was nothing to see here. Others began telling schoolchildren to go home and that classes were cancelled for the time being. Some children obeyed and began running home, while others kept jerking their heads back toward the schoolyard to see what would happen.

I heard sniffling behind me and I saw that Cia was emerging from inside the bakery to join me and Kern on the veranda. Her face was streaked with the remains of tears and her sky blue eyes were ringed with red. She blew her nose into a handkerchief and quickly asked if we knew who told on her teacher.

"Not a clue Cia," Kern said as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Neither Anthea or I talked about the matter with our families. I can only guess that maybe one of your classmates said something to their parents and maybe the news got around to the Peacekeepers."

"I'm wondering if someone told Gedes," I said.

Both Cia and Kern gave me identical confused looks. "Uh Anthea, how would Gedes factor in here?" Kern asked.

I stared out at the tops of the town buildings and let my eyes fall on the Victors' Village. The Victors' Village is a separate area where all winners of the Hunger Games go to live for the rest of their lives. They are said to be nicely furnished, have 24/7 electricity, and have warm water available for bathing or showering in the taps. Every district has a Victors' Village but ours, along with some of the other districts, have yet to have a victor.

"He came into the shop yesterday," I announced after a long pause. "Again, I never said a word to him or even let on that I knew anything about Cia's teacher. ...But he used it as a topic to fill the silence in the shop when Dad was cutting up his turkey. He started to say that he'd bet anything that Cia's teacher would be pulled from the district for good and replaced with someone else."

Kern crossed his arms over his chest and let out a breath of air he had been holding in. "Anything else happen while he was there? Did he lose his lunch while you and your dad hacked at his dinner?"

I shook my head no and continued to look out from our viewpoint. "No I wish that had happened. Would have been nice to see him just shut his mouth and leave sooner rather than later. But he tried to flirt with Marigold again and me. He was asking Dad if I would be married sooner than Marigold and I...sort of blew up at his question and threw...a carving knife at his head."

Cia's eyes widened in horror and she nearly jumped up in surprise. "You did what?"

Kern smirked at the thought of it and chuckled lightly. "Serves that weasel right. What was his face like when the knife landed by him?"

"Pale, almost like a clean, crisp bed sheet," I recalled. "Cia it missed his head – I meant to have it miss but come close enough to get the point across."

Kern shook his head and murmured that I was deadly for a girl. Cia calmed down and allowed a small smile to cross her face. Her mom hated Gedes too since he tried wooing Cia's older sisters too; thank goodness both were married already and happy with their own families.

I watched as Kern jerked his head back toward the town and we began watching the scene unfold. The teacher was being led away from the schoolyard and toward the center of town. Kern's back stiffened and he whipped toward Cia, shouting that she should get inside. Puzzled, Cia tried to come closer to the railing of the veranda but Kern shoved her backwards into my arms and screamed at me to take her to my place immediately. My stomach churned but I kept an expression devoid of emotion on my face as I gripped Cia's smaller hand in mine and began half-running, half dragging Cia away as fast as we could. The streets I took to head home from the bakery were completely clear, since everyone else was either home or watching what was about to unfold. My heart was pounding loudly in my chest as I watched my door come closer within sight. Gripping the door handle with one hand and Cia's hand in my other, I yanked the door open and slammed it behind her just as we heard the gunshots.

Cia froze at the sound and her knees began knocking together. I dashed toward her and threw my arms around her small body to support her sinking form. She managed to regain balance and she crushed herself against my blouse. Her hands gripped the back of my white blouse as she began sobbing. I rested my hand on top of her head and let her cry for several minutes.

Dad emerged from the living room and flung the door open when he saw Cia sobbing in my arms. He turned back toward the living room and Mom barreled out with Marigold behind her. Mom put a hand to her lips and surveyed the scene with surprise.

"What happened Anthea?" Marigold asked.

Before I could answer, Cia hiccuped and choked out that her teacher was dead. This made Mom run to the kitchen to scrape together ingredients for some kind of warm drink, any thing to make Cia calm again.

"How?" Marigold asked as she produced a chair for Cia.

"Someone must have told the district government and word must have spread to the Capitol," I replied. "There were tons of Peacekeepers – more than just the handful we have here. I'm guessing the Capitol saw her as a threat and wanted to make an example of her. She was led out of the schoolyard by them and to the square."

Dad sighed as he ran his hand through his hair. "I was worried about what Gedes said last night about that," he said. "Now that fool might actually get his money's worth if he was betting on something like this happening."

Cia unwrapped her arms from around me and took a seat in the chair. Mom brought her a hot cup of something for her to drink and Marigold rubbed her shoulders and tried to talk to her in a calm, soothing voice.

"What happened to the rest of the students?" Mom asked me as she brought me a cup too.

I took a sip from it slowly. Warm milk with honey, which is one of my favorites. I swallowed and wiped my mouth on the napkin she gave me.

"They were turning kids away and telling them that school was cancelled for the time being," I said. "No one seemed like they wanted to mess with these new Peacekeepers. One of them poked at a boy with her gun and told him to go home."

"They have some nerve doing that to a child," Marigold said as she wrapped a blanket around Cia's shoulders.

I heard the door open behind me and Kern walked through with a grim expression on his face.

"I'm so sorry about your teacher Cia," he said. "The new Peacekeepers were tacking a notice on the door of the school saying that all school lessons are cancelled for two weeks. Perfect timing too I must say. You know what beastly event is also approaching this week."

"The reaping," I note.


	4. Chapter 4

I don't want to get up today; in fact, I wish that it would just fast forward to tomorrow or some other day that didn't involve the agony that always came with the reaping. I felt a pillow thunk me on the head and I pried my eyes open to see Marigold standing over me with her pillow in hand.

"Up and at 'em," she said. "Or else I'll just keep hitting you with the pillow until you decide to get up."

I slid my hands under my pillow and gripped it. I raised my head from it and hit Marigold back with it. "I'm up. Thrilled?" I asked with a smile.

She smiled and hit me back with hers. "So excited. As a matter of fact, I think I'll skip down the stairs because you're up," she joked.

I put down my pillow and threw back the covers as she replaced her pillow on her bed and began making it. I followed suit with mine, smoothing the sheets down and straightening the lump which was my comforter, onto the bed. _Well, at least I have my sister to try to lighten the mood_, I thought.

I headed downstairs and checked the clock on the wall. 11:56 AM. I must have slept in since I'm usually an early riser. The reaping was in the early afternoon, which meant that doom was near. Marigold was so lucky that she was too old to be in the running for the games any more. Don't get me wrong, I'm only a year away from being ineligible if I manage to survive this reaping and next year's. But standing in a block of kids from your class year after year was dreary when hearing the same speech and seeing unsuspecting kids being chosen and coming home in a box.

Mom looked weary, almost as if she didn't get any sleep last night. Dad put on a faint smile as soon as he saw me approach the kitchen and held out the skillet filled with bacon, which we only served either on Reaping Day or for a special occasion. I gave him a smile in return as I dragged my chair out and took a seat in it. Marigold came in behind me and picked the chair closest to Mom.

Dad doled out even portions of bacon, toast, and fresh berries for all 4 of us. He offered Mom and Marigold coffee to drink and plunked down a glass of water for me, since I hate coffee. He wiped his hands on his apron, removed it, and sat down in his chair next to mine. I picked up a piece of bacon and let it crunch against my teeth into crumbly bits. Dad popped a few berries in his mouth while Mom broke her toast into small pieces and Marigold took a sip of her coffee. It was completely silent around the table for a few moments until Mom spoke up.

"Anthea, I'm warming up water for you and Marigold to bathe in for...the reaping," she said. "Make sure to hold your nails under the water for a few minutes so they're clean for today. And as for your hair-"

"I'll do it Mom," Marigold cut in. "That's one less thing you need to worry about."

I silently thanked Marigold, since I had a bad feeling that Mom would have sent me to the reaping looking like I did at age 12: in a girly dress and my hair in pigtails with shiny ribbons at the ends.

I stared down at my plate and forced myself to shove some toast and berries into my mouth. Better to stand through the torture with something in my stomach than faint on the person in front of me later...

* * *

The dirt sank to the bottom of my wash tub when I scrubbed it free from my body. My nails emerged from the murky water with the undersides a pearly white and clean as ever. My hair felt heavy with all the water in it and I wrung as much of it out into the tub before I stepped out. A towel went around my body before I stepped back into my room and saw that Marigold was already dressed in an old dress Mom wore when she was Marigold's age. She looked up from combing out her hair and gestured to the bed where an outfit was laid out for me.

A simple black circle skirt that fell to my knees, a blouse with cinched shoulders and a waist tie in the back, and flats went on in a flash and soon I was sitting in front of our shared mirror with Marigold standing behind me with a brush in her hand. She gently worked out the tangles in my scraggly hair and gathered it into a low ponytail with a tie. She placed her thumb above the tie and nudged it down into my hair until it separated into a hole. With her other hand, she twisted the ponytail tightly and slid it through the hole, resulting in a flipped ponytail. She combed the ends out and put down the brush.

"Done and not a single frilly thing about today's reaping look," she said.

"Thank you for saving me back there," I murmured. "Last thing I need is to be placed next to stupid Lily and have her insult Mom for making me look like Little Bo Peep."

Marigold told me to wait as she left our room to check on how much time was left. She came back a minute later, quietly announcing that it was time to go. I rose from my chair in front of the mirror and trudged down the stairs behind her. Dad held the door open for me, Marigold, and Mom before closing and locking it behind him. He had trimmed his sideburns and shaved away the stubble starting to form on his chin a few days ago. Mom walked rigidly behind Marigold in her crisp, pressed dress, her head up, and hands clasped together. It was a silent walk to the town square and painfully awkward since there was nothing to do but pray that the odds were in my favor this year, once again.

"I'll find all of you afterwards," I said to my parents as I got in the long line for children checking in. I craned my neck and saw that in the line parallel to mine, Kern had just checked in and was walking over to the roped off area where 18 year old boys stood. I waited 3 minutes until I was suddenly next in line. The peacekeeper grabbed my hand and placed it on the pricking device. I felt a dull poke and my hand was guided to the log -in manual for a fingerprint. Another scanned my fingerprint with his device and my name _Galloway, Anthea_ appeared on his screen. He nodded at me and told me to go ahead. I walked over to the section for 17 year old girls and stood next to a girl I vaguely knew from class. I checked for Lily out of the corner of my eye and was grateful to see that she was not in my row but 3 rows ahead. Her back was stiff and straight as a board with her arms pinned to her sides. This didn't look like the girl who had been walking around with a haughty attitude in the schoolyard. Instead, she looked almost robotic and tense. I tried to pick out Cia in the 14 year old section but her section was closer to the stage and harder to see from my vantage point. I gave up looking for Cia and turned back towards the far left to search for Kern, who was on the inner aisle. He was looking around anxiously and hadn't caught my gaze. I thought about trying to get his attention when someone tapped the microphone to get everyone's attention.

I snapped my head to the front and saw it was the mayor who cleared his throat and began reading off the history speech of the Hunger Games and its origin. After hearing it for the past 18 years in a row, I could practically recite it from memory but why bother? After the mayor wrapped up his speech, he stepped to the side as he introduced our escort from the Capitol, Mira Estes. Every district has an escort who represents them and is tasked with picking the tributes every year for the reaping from a bowl of names. In addition, the escort tries to build a positive image for their district's tributes in order to attract potential sponsors. Mira's been the escort for 12 since the beginning of the games and I remember her starting as a late teen. Yet she doesn't look very old, probably because of cosmetic surgery done to make one look younger and healthy in the Capitol. This year, her hair's gold and wavy with a delicate tropical flower ornament in her hair. She straighted her indigo suit jacket as she glided forward to the microphone.

"Good afternoon everyone! Lovely to see all of your faces again," she began. She looked around and continued. "The time has come to select one young man and young woman to represent District 12 in the 17th Hunger Games." She glided over to the bowl on her right and hovered her hand around.

"Ladies first, as always," she announced as she plunged her hand in and began digging around for a name. She did this for 15 seconds before fishing out a slip of paper with a seal on it. She undid the seal and flattened the slip out to read the name on it. "Our girl tribute is...Colombe Kilburne! Will you come on up here, dear?"

I watched as Lily's back went from as flat as a board to hunched over like a question mark. Her head was crouched low to her chest and I thought I heard her sniffling. In a group in front of Cia's, the girls began parting away, singling out a petite girl with a white ribbon tied in her strawberry blonde hair. The hazel eyes looked from the stage to the girls around her and she shakily extended one leg out and placed it in front of her to start moving toward the stage.

Other kids in their groups stared dumbstruck at her and I looked down at the ground, my shoulders shaking. Like everyone else around me, I knew Colombe as Lily's youngest sister. Unlike my enemy, she was precious and caring towards everyone, including me. I can still remember when she stopped by the butcher shop on my birthday, which was one of my bad days. One of Lily's goonies had shoved me into a rough patch of the schoolyard fence, resulting in me falling and tearing almost half of Marigold's old dress off. Kern had offered me his jacket to hide the tear during class and Cia was sick that day. I went home to a weak round of happy birthdays from my parents which turned into scolding from Mom when she saw my torn dress, who thought I was being careless.

It was late afternoon when I was cutting wild dog for a customer when Colombe bounded through the door and was holding something behind her back. Once I had finished with the customer, she skipped up to the counter and cheerily told me happy birthday. Then she plopped a medium-sized bag of lemon drops, my favorite, onto the counter and told me to enjoy them. How she found out my birthday and favorite candy was beyond me but after popping one into my mouth on a terrible day, it was...nice. She liked visiting me sometimes at the butcher shop when it was slow and often commented that we were the odd ones of District 12 since we looked nothing like the people of our classes. She was strawberry blonde with hazel eyes unlike Lily with her golden blonde locks and baby blue eyes. I had black-brown hair with rust or dried blood colored eyes, depending on the light they were seen in, compared to Mom and Marigold's jet black hair with gray eyes. I would be hard pressed to call her a close friend, but at the very least, she was a good acquaintance.

I looked up to see that Colombe had finally made her way to the stairs and was ascending them slowly, almost as if she was in a daze. It was upsetting to watch, especially since she was only 13 and completely vulnerable in an event like the Hunger Games. I looked back at Lily who was sobbing very loudly and her wails reminded me of a wounded dog. The girls standing next to her had backed away to give her space to grieve at her sister's predicament. It was all too much.

"Don't be shy dear!" Mira said to Colombe once she got on stage. She wrapped an arm around the small girl's shoulders and gently guided her to her place on the stage.

I couldn't stand to watch this any more. I moved out of my place in line and made my way to the aisle. No one tried to stop me, instead they stepped back to give me room. I reached the aisle and began walking up it very quickly. I could hear my heart pounding loudly in my ears and blood was rushing to my face as everyone stared at me. It must have been adrenaline that was fueling me forward because I heard myself saying the two most dangerous words ever uttered in District 12.

"I volunteer!" I yelled. "I volunteer in place of Colombe Kilburne!"

These words made Mira whip around and straighten up quickly. She trotted back to the microphone and said, "I can't believe it but I believe this is District 12's first volunteer! Well step right up dear!"

Peacekeepers marched onto the stage and began leading a bewildered Colombe off the stage. Her dazed look had become one of surprise and fear. Her mouth opened but no words came out as she passed me on the way down to the ground. I moved quickly up the steps and walked over to Mira standing next to the microphone.

"And what is your name?" she asked.

"Anthea. Anthea Galloway," I said.

"Is she a friend of yours?" Mira asked.

"Yes, she is," I replied hollowly.

Colombe was led back to her group and I saw Lily break away from ours to run toward her sister. She threw her arms around her younger sister and clutched her tightly as tears streamed down her face. Did I suddenly have a soft spot for my dreaded enemy? Not necessarily. I could have just kept my mouth shut and let Lily suffer as revenge for all of the torture she put me through in school. Yet, I felt sympathy for Colombe who was, a girl, and too young to be forced to fight with a knife or other weapon in hand to save her own life. _You're welcome Lily_, I thought dryly. _Not only is your sister safe and free from the horrors of the game but you might get to watch your enemy die in the arena._

"How exciting! How about a round of applause for Anthea Galloway, District 12's first volunteer?" she prompted.

The crowd looked up at me and some began looking at each other. No one knew how to react to the news that someone, anyone from District 12 would even dream about volunteering. A few lowered their heads in respect and people like Cia lightly clapped. I didn't dare look over at Kern in case he decided to give me a scornful look for what I had done.

Mira moved me to the spot where the female tribute is supposed to stand on stage and glided over to the left bowl.

"And our boy tribute will be..." she mused as she dug deep. She fished out a name and returned to the microphone quickly while opening it. "Jay Combecox."

I watched as a blonde haired boy stepped out of his line with the 17 year olds and began walking up to the stage at a steady pace. Mira welcomed him once he crossed over to his spot on stage and prompted us to shake hands. I turned toward Jay gave his hand an abrupt shake before letting go and turning back to the front.

Mira stepped up to the mic again and proclaimed, "Your tributes of the 17th Hunger Games, Anthea Galloway and Jay Combecox!"


	5. Chapter 5

Mira whisks us away from the crowd and into the Justice Building for final goodbyes. She puts me in one room with a large desk and leaves with Jay to put him in another. Tributes are given an hour to say goodbye to their families and friends who visit them during this time before heading to the Capitol to prepare for televised appearances and training. Most of the hour prior to leaving is filled with tears and regret, from what I've heard.

I allowed my eyes to wander around the room I was in, which had a large wooden desk made with a rich, dark finish. Probably something like oak or mahogany which came from District 7's factories. A large, cushy couch made of leather was underneath the bookshelves on the left side of the room and was facing the windows with beautiful curtains in a deep navy blue. Curious, I headed toward the curtains and almost tripped and twisted my ankle when I first stepped onto the carpeted area, because the material was so thick and plushy. The fibers were very long and I was guessing that this had to be about 3 inches thick. Well, if this is a precursor of what to expect in the Capitol, then their carpets must be 10 inches thick and soft as feathers, practically nice enough to just sleep on without the bed or mattress.

My hand reached out to touch the fabric of the curtains and paused when I heard the door open behind me. I turned around to see a peacekeeper letting my mom, dad, and Marigold through the door.

"7 minutes," the peacekeeper announced crisply. "No more than that." She closed the door behind her, leaving me alone with my family.

Marigold was crying when she ran to hug me, her long arms crushed me tightly and I almost felt like I was going to faint. Mom glanced to the side and kept her eyes up. They were devoid of any redness or puffiness but I could see water pooling close to her lower lid and her gray irises narrowed to prevent tears from falling.

"They can't do this to her," Marigold whispered unhappily. "Anthea, you may be one of the older tributes but it doesn't mean that its any better than sending that little girl out there either. I've seen those kids from 1, 2, and 4 and they aren't kids – they're killing machines."

Dad put a hand on Marigold's shoulder and squeezed it. "Mari honey, I think giving your sister some air to breathe would be good," he prompted.

Marigold let go of me and tried to stem the flow of salty tears falling from her eyes. Dad turned to face me and clapped a hand on my shoulder.

"I didn't raise a daughter from age 7 to not know anything except coal mining," he stated. "You know your knives – make sure to use them in the arena."

"What if they don't have them Dad?" I asked grimly. "Kern's cousin had ropes, wire, and matches in the Cornucopia and we all know how that went."

"I'm sure if you show them your skills, they'll take it into consideration," Dad said gently. "I remember them throwing in unconventional weapons from time to time if a skilled tribute shows great talent with it during training."

"Oh the District 10 boy," Marigold sniffled. "Didn't he use a hot iron poke?"

I nodded as I recollected on games where the District 10 male had snatched up an iron poke stick and some matches from the Cornucopia. The tributes from Districts 1, 2, and 4, whom we call Careers, dismissed this weapon as nothing and they paid dearly for their ignorance. It was between the District 1 girl who was prized for her plump lips and glossy, long tresses and the District 10 boy who had cornered her with the hot iron poke and stabbed her with it. Part of it was revenge for overlooking his abilities as backwards and the other was because it was pure instinct to kill her for the victory. A messy games but it kept audiences entertained since it was a rare victory for District 10.

Mom looked at me and swallowed hard, giving herself time to collect her thoughts before speaking. "Anthea, if you manage to obtain a few knives, please don't try to pull an overconfident attitude like the Careers. Learn everything you can during training, even the most mundane things. Those kids may be skilled with a weapon, but its the ones who fail the basic survival skills that end up dying earlier in their games.

"I won't Mom," I murmured. Channeling the Careers would be a bad move, period. They didn't like accepting loss or failure, as seen in the victory tour for past winners from other districts. People from Districts 1,2, and 4 would always look irritated or angry underneath their clenched smiles and light applause for the visiting victors from any other district. The kids my age and younger don't act like your average teen or child – instead they are bred like fighting, bloodthirsty robots who thrive on killing to satisfy them. If someone told them to volunteer, the kids would. If someone told the kids to slit someone's throat, they would gladly comply.

Marigold jumped in surprise when the door opened again and the peacekeeper came back through, stating that time was up. Dad squeezed my shoulder again before guiding a weeping Marigold out and motioning to a stony-faced wife to follow him out. The door slammed shut and I heard Marigold wail loudly as she walked away from my room in the building. It became quiet once again for about 2 minutes until the door opened again and Cia walked in with Kern behind her.

The peacekeeper told them they had 7 minutes to say what they needed to say and left again. Cia ran to hug me and Kern pushed his hands into his pockets and rocked on his heels. He looked around the room and spoke after a long moment of silence.

"You didn't have to volunteer for Prissy Lily's sister," he grumbled. "You don't owe her anything and you owe absolutely zip to Lily."

"Gee Kern, thanks for the reminder," I said dryly. "I wasn't planning to volunteer, thank you. The words came out before I could stop myself from saying them."

Kern threw his hands up in the air and snapped, "Really? You weren't chosen because the odds were in your favor, Cia's, and mine. Who cares if Lily's little sister had 2 slips and had a low chance compared to you and Cia? It doesn't justify why you just wrote up your death sentence!"

"She's 13 Kern! Not 17 or 18 like you and me!" I shouted. "She's lucky that she is still innocent for her age. The Capitol has no right to corrupt her and possibly send her out as a sacrificial lamb!"

"Stop it now!" Cia commanded us. "I brought you in here to wish her luck and give support Kern, not to yell at her for being thoughtful of others! Anthea, he's your best friend. He's worried since we haven't had a victor yet."

"We'll never have one," Kern moaned. "You've seen those kids they breed from the Career districts. They are practically killing machines on 2 legs!"

Cia raised a hand to tell him to stop. She told him to take a deep breath and collect himself before saying something else he could regret. Then she turned to me.

"But Anthea knows a lot about knives Kern," she reminded him. "Coal mining doesn't offer much in the way of weapons and defense but working as a butcher does. That's protection and food right there. And she doesn't have to even fight – maybe she can lay low and keep herself alive until the Careers...start disagreeing amongst one another, you know?"

Kern rumpled his hair and sighed. "That is a fair strategy Cia," he replied. He looked at me and opened his arms to me. I hesitated for a few seconds and walked into them slowly. "Sorry Anthea, I just don't like the idea of any of us being in the games," he said. "I'm just reeling from the shock that you offered yourself up for Lily's sister of all people. But...its better than Lily herself I'm sure."

"Remember Kern, I did get mad enough at Gedes to throw a knife at his head and have it miss by 1 inch on purpose," I murmured. "If I can do that, then its a step in the right direction."

Then the peacekeeper came back to tell Cia and Kern that their time was up. Both scrambled to get out before the peacekeeper decided to start using force to get them out. Cia waved and blew me a kiss while Kern bowed his head and gave a brief salute before the doors were closed on me again.

Well, that had to be it. There wasn't anyone else I could think of that would visit me before I was whisked away to the Capitol to be molded and programed to do their bidding for entertainment.

But the peacekeeper opened the door again, once again and the last person I thought I'd see came through the doorway: Lily Kilburne.

"7 minutes," the peacekeeper repeated before closing the door.

Here we were, two enemies face-to-face without the schoolyard or anyone else watching us. She was dressed in a pretty light blue dress with white trim on the sleeves, collar, and skirt hem, which hung limply on her body, thanks to crying and her hunched position she held when Colombe was called. She looked down at her feet and shifted them uneasily while I looked at the doors, waiting for the peacekeeper to just come back already. What was the point of even letting her visit me in the first place? She was probably just here to laugh and insult me for being a turkey and signing my own death certificate.

"Look, I don't really like you that much," she began as she looked up from the floor.

"The feeling's mutual."

"But...I do have to admire your...courage to get up and volunteer for my sister," she concluded.

I blinked at her and stared hard at her eyes, looking to see if she was giving away any telltale signs that she was simply tricking me, like usual. But I found none within the baby blue eyes filled with a quiet smile for what I had done.

"Hard to believe I'm actually saying this," she continued. "Actually, Colombe would have been the one to come see you and say thanks but after she was pulled off the stage, she...fainted from shock. So...I came for her."

I softened the harsh line my mouth was set in and allowed myself to smile a little. "Thank you...Lily. I'm sorry about Colombe fainting. I hope she feels a little relieved to know that she's safe and will be for another year."

Lily nodded and took a step closer towards me. She continued in a hushed voice, "Gedes was betting that you were going to die during the bloodbath."

"Doesn't surprise me. I did throw a knife at his head a few days ago for trying to suggest that I marry him," I said.

She locked her baby blues on my rusty irises and stared intently into them. "He also found out that Marigold is still single, unlike the rumor that Quigley was telling everyone a few days ago. If you die, he's only going to try even harder to weasel into your family. And he's only going to be worse once he gets Marigold. Trust me, I've heard him scheming about Azalea and Des before they were married."

I was stunned to hear this revelation and Lily cut me off before I could speak. "That is why you need to come home alive, at any cost. Make him eat his words and prove that a girl from District 12's butcher can win."


	6. Chapter 6

I stared straight ahead as we rode in a carriage to the train station. Mira was chattering away about, well, whatever she was trying to say to make the Capitol seem less despicable. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jay suppressing a yawn before looking out the window, also tuning Mira out. Typical, I'm sure. I wanted to feel some kind of sympathy for this woman but its impossible since she keeps coming back every year with the same perky smile and upbeat attitude, acting as if nothing happened last games. Either Mira was plain ignorant or she just didn't care, as long as she made sure she looked good in front of those who mattered.

Once we arrived at the train station, we were shepherded into a long, sleek train car with Mira politely prodding us to just get in as quickly as possible. Jay climbed in first and I followed behind him, my nose bumping into his back. I was tempted to tell him to just keep moving forward so Mira could get in, but I became distracted by the train's interior, just like he had.

The carpet was plushy, similar to the stuff in the Justice Building but was a shocking shade of turquoise. There were couches made from lush materials like leather and suede in opposite corners of the car. A gilded table with scrolling designs in the legs was in the center of this car with matching, high-backed chairs surrounding it. And upon this table, was a breathtaking feast; so spectacular that it seemed too good to be true. A plump bird, either some kind of wild bird like a turkey or groosling sat on a silver tray with a crispy, golden-brown skin. Golden yellow mounds of fingerling potatoes were in their own bowl, trays of fresh, ripe berries, and a 3 tier tray with different colored mini desserts. The feast was accompanied with 3 pitchers of drinks in the center.

Mira politely excused herself as she pushed past me and Jay and motioned for us to take a seat at the table. Jay nodded, almost as if in a daze and pulled a chair out to sit in. I picked a seat across from him and slowly sat down, placing the napkin from my table setting onto my lap. Jay had decided to pluck one of every single mini dessert from the tray and began putting whole ones into his mouth. Mira's eyes drifted toward him but she said nothing about his table manners, or lack thereof. I crossed my arms over my chest and glanced at Mira.

"Who's our mentor?" I asked her.

Mira craned her neck to look behind me and replied, "Well, since there is no victor from your district yet, the Capitol has brought in a Peacekeeper to serve as your mentor. His name is Crestley. He should be here right now." She rose from her seat and excused herself to go find him.

I watched Jay chew on one of the mini desserts and swallow quickly before picking up another one. He caught my eye and asked if I was going to eat too.

"Might as well, it's the only time we'll get to actually feel full," he prompted.

"I'm going to wait until we meet this Crestley," I muttered as I leaned back in my seat. "What are your thoughts on having a Peacekeeper as our mentor?"

Jay wiped his mouth hastily on a napkin and poured himself something orange from one of the pitchers. He took a sip and creased his brows. "Not sure really. I'm just hoping that he doesn't try to pull one on us and slit our throats in the night."

"He can't do that," I replied. "He'd be charged with killing a tribute before the game even started – its illegal."

"Yeah I figured but after having all those outside Peacekeepers come in...recently," Jay began. He cut his words short at the sound of sliding doors opening behind me.

I turned my head and watched as Mira re-entered the car without our mentor in hand. What were the chances of him drinking or gambling at the moment instead of meeting his new tributes?

"I'm afraid he's preoccupied at the moment but we can start eating without him," she stated.

"What's so important that couldn't wait?" I asked her.

Instead of answering my question, Mira occupied herself with the task of cutting the bird but was doing a terrible job trying to cut cleanly and evenly through it. She was trying to cut the bird starting from the center and it was obvious that she hadn't ever learned how to use a carving knife. I sighed and held my hand out, asking her to just give me the carving knife she was misusing. She gave me a puzzled glance and reluctantly handed it over.

"If Crestley was here, he'd be cutting this," Mira sighed as she allowed me to take control. Yeah right Mira, as if I'd trust an absent man, let alone a Peacekeeper, to cut this bird and do a decent job without cutting himself or swearing.

I began cutting off the ends and worked toward the center. Jay and Mira watched me intently and I tried to ignore their stares as I neared the other end of the bird. "I grew up doing this every single day of my life," I explained to Mira. "This is second nature to me."

She clasped her hands together and gave me a bright smile. "Wonderful! I believe you're the first tribute I've escorted that actually knows how to handle knives!" She turned to Jay and asked, "So how about you dearie? What kind of talents do you have?"

Jay shrugged his shoulders and threw his hands up. "Dunno. I mean, I know some basic healing techniques 'cause I worked in the apothecary but I don't know anything weapon-wise, you know?"

Mira kept a positive smile on her face but her eyes clearly showed disappointment. I prompted her to hold out her plate and she lifted it to receive 2 slices of turkey I cut for her. I sliced some for Jay and he held his plate out, eagerly taking it back before the last slice touched the plate. Finally, I cut some for myself and put the carving knife down onto the tray. Jay grabbed the bowl of potatoes and spooned 3 heaps onto his plate, Mira took 1.5, and I took 1 to start.

No surprise – Jay had terrible table manners in my mom's book. He devoured his meat with little chewing and seemed to swallow the fingerlings whole. Despite his appearance of a typical figure of the merchant class – blond with blue eyes and fair skinned – he probably didn't get to have many nice meals with a plump bird, fresh vegetables, and bakery-style sweets in front of him.

Mira seemed to be trying to ignore Jay as she nibbled on her turkey in small bites. She took a sip of tea and blotted her mouth in a ladylike fashion. I chewed my mouth slowly and paced myself throughout the meal so I wouldn't feel nearly nauseous at the end like Jay probably would. Sure enough, Jay put his fork and knife down and leaned back in his seat. He had a look mixed with content and the hint of green one gets when feeling sick.

Then I heard the doors slide open again and in stumbled a red-headed man in a wrinkled white Peacekeepers' uniform. This had to be Crestley. Mira stood up from the table and welcomed him graciously as he approached the table. He nodded at her before taking a seat as far away from all 3 of us as possible. He snorted in disgust when he took at look at Jay and shook his head.

"Stuffed yourself, didn't you boy?" he remarked dryly in a gruff voice. "Well that's bad for your digestion any ways."

I watched as Jay tried to sit up straight in his seat but he couldn't with a belly full of partially chewed food and sugary sweets. His face flushed at Crestley's comment and he lowered his eyes to avoid meeting the stern brown ones of our mentor.

"You can't blame him Crestley, dear," Mira spoke up. "Poor thing got overexcited when he saw that all of this was for him and his district partner."

"That's not a valid excuse for eating until you're sick though," he grunted. He looked over at me as I deliberately stabbed at a small piece of turkey and put it in my mouth to chew it. He pointed to me and asked Mira, "I take it that this is the other one I'm stuck mentoring."

"Well she seems promising Crestley," Mira said. "This is Anthea and you've already acquainted yourself with her partner Jay. She actually cut this turkey for all of us, quite well if I do say so myself."

Crestley rolled his eyes and grabbed a handful of berries to pop into his mouth. Mira pursed her lips into a taut line at this deed but remained silent. As he chomped on the mouthful of berries, he turned to look at me.

"This girl doesn't look like much to me," he remarked. "And you say that she cut that bird? Well I doubt it was you Mira, obviously because it would threaten to ruin your pretty little suit there and that boy over there is too dazed to do it."

"I worked at the butcher's sir," I replied. "I've been doing this since I was 7."

Crestley threw back his head and laughed loudly. Berry juice spilled from his lips and it reminded me of the stuff that came out when someone drank something poisoned. He wiped away the berry juice with the back of his hand.

"Sure and that makes you as damn good as the kids from my home district," he chortled. "Doesn't mean anything to me. You could be decent with a knife but it won't save you from the kids who know how to kill you in other ways." He rose from his seat and began heading out. I thought I heard him grumble, "I need a drink to get me through this" as the sliding doors closed behind him.

Mira scowled at his retreating form and turned back towards us. "I apologize for his behavior back there," she began. "He was...just asked this year to act as a mentor. On another note, once we arrive at the Capitol, you'll be met by your individual prep teams and stylists. They'll be helping to make you look your best for the tribute parade and for the upcoming interviews."

"What about him? What are we going to do about getting sponsors and advice for training?" Jay spoke up as he looked back at the sliding doors that Crestley left through.

Mira placed her hand on Jay's shoulder and calmly replied that she would try to talk him into being more helpful as a mentor. I didn't have high hopes for Crestley to make an about face after meeting him a few moments ago. He wasn't going to offer us help – rather, he just wanted to drink away the problem and hope it was just going to go away for good. If I wanted sponsors, I was on my own to wow those self-absorbed fools through skill and charm.


	7. Chapter 7

"Look at these split ends! How much are we going to have to cut off to fix this problem? 7, 9, 11 inches?" a blue haired woman shrieks.

"Calm down Lapis," the fiery haired male says soothingly. He accepts a measuring tape from the blue-skinned one with white curls for her hair and holds it against my ends with a magnifying glass over it.

"Hmm...I'd reckon about 5 3/4 inches need to come off," he said as he studied it. "When was the last time you cut your hair Anthea?"

"Um about 3 months ago, I think Ember," I murmured. "Sorry everyone. We don't get haircuts every single month because there isn't much of a reason to do so."

The white haired, blue skinned woman came over to me and patted me sympathetically on the arm. "Now Lapis don't be mad at her. She is from the mining district anyway. They need to focus on coal production, not luxuries like District 1!"

Lapis sighed deeply and replied that Stratus, the blue-skinned, white haired one, was right. She raised her scissors and began cutting away the incriminating split ends I had from a lack of regular haircuts. She kept her gold colored lips pursed as she came around to the front and began cutting angled side bangs into my front hairs. Ember watched her cut and studied me curiously.

"The last few people we've had from District 12 had black hair and gray eyes," he commented. "Does someone else in your family have amber eyes?"

Amber? Really? I guess he was trying to avoid calling them blood brown but where did he come up with amber? Oh well.

"No, its just me I'm afraid," I said. "I don't know why that happened."

"They seem full of intensity," he remarked. "More so than the last batch of tributes I've had to work on. They all seem so lost or depressed."

I swallowed hard as Lapis checked my bangs to make sure they fell the exact way she envisioned them. I rubbed my sore arm and bit my tongue to quell the stinging sensation that was lingering still. I had already undergone having all exterior hairs from both arms, legs, and underarms yanked from their roots, sat in a fragrant bath, and had my skin polished abrasively to glow with a healthy sheen.

"I need to come home a winner," I said in a low voice. "I'm not just here for myself. I promised...an acquaintance that I'd come home for her sister and for the district."

Stratus clasped her hands together and swooned that she had seen my reaping tape and found me absolutely heroic, almost like some old heroine of a long ago yesteryear, Joan something.

At the mention of the reaping tapes, I allowed my mind to wander back to my competitors. Earlier this morning, we prompted Mira to show us the reapings from yesterday, which we missed, courtesy of the train having problems with the electronics in the televisions. District 1 consisted of 2 young tributes being quickly replaced by older ones with ridiculous names. The boy looked to be about our age with sleek brown hair, prominent cheekbones, and green eyes and was introduced as Ermine. Then he was joined on the stage by a curvy girl with white blonde hair named Dazzle who sauntered up the steps in sultry manner. There was no doubt about what they'd be prized for in the Capitol: their stunning, god-like beauty. Jay blinked in surprise when Dazzle appeared on stage and seemed mesmerized for a few seconds before shaking it off.

Before a name was even called for District 2, a girl with beady, hawk-like eyes pushed her way to the stage and yelled that she was volunteering. She introduced herself as Quartz and soon after, a younger male, no older than 15 joined her, named Mason. Despite his youthful appearance, he was definitely strong, judging by the bulging muscles straining under the tight sleeves of his button down shirt.

A willowy boy named Watt walked slowly up the steps in District 3 once his name was called. He blinked a few times and clumsily tried to adjust something in his eye, probably a corrective lens to help him see. He was joined on stage by a petite 14 year old girl named Joule who looked anxiously up at her partner as they shook hands. Once they let go, she tossed her curled ponytail dramatically and squared her shoulders as she waltzed into their justice building. I didn't see much potential in her but I quickly reminded myself to not count her out. She could be hiding some talent that others wouldn't know about.

District 4 mimicked District 1 and 2's volunteer procedure, with two tributes being pulled from the bowls and 2 new ones immediately volunteering to replace them. A boy with steely blue eyes dashed up to the stage to replace original male tribute and introduced himself as Hook.

"Hook? Like that foolish Captain from a childhood story about Peter Pan?" Jay crowed when he heard the name.

I shook my head at him as he laughed about this boy's unfortunate name. Sure he had a less than desirable name but this guy certainly was no laughing matter if he was skilled at fighting. While Jay tried to pull himself together, I turned my my gaze to the screen to see a girl with lush light brown hair streaked with golden blonde taking the place of the original female tribute. She flashed the audience with a winning smile as she introduced herself as Marina. This was another one that was clearly going to play up the beauty card to appeal to sponsors.

The rest of the districts flew by as few made little impression on me or Jay. The majority of other tributes seemed unhappy, scared, or completely devoid of emotion as they joined their escort on stage. Jay yawned as he was starting to get bored and decided after watching District 7's reaping that he was going to get more food. I continued watching the remainder of the reapings and leaned closer to the screen when they got to District 9 and chose the male tribute. The boy was about 17 or 18 and he strode up the steps stiffly, a stony look in his eyes. They weren't filled with fear or terror but instead, they were hard and cold with resolve. Even his female district partner seemed to cower at his presence as he stood beside her. The escort introduced him as Rye. The camera panned on his hand as he shook hands with his district partner and I squinted to get a better look. His hands were rough and worn, probably from years of harvesting grain for the Capitol and other districts. His wrists appeared to have scars on them but from what?

_Jay was stupid to not see this guy_, I thought as I studied him before the tape flashed to District 10. Now, Rye seemed like another contender that was hell bent to win at all costs. For a few moments, I debated whether I should team up with him but quickly talked myself out of it. He seemed like the type to work alone anyways. Besides, the last thing I wanted to have happen was being forced to face off against a former ally at the very end of the games.

* * *

"Okay Anthea, we're all done with you," Ember broke into my thoughts. "Sarto will see you now." He motioned to Stratus and Lapis and all three of them left me alone in prep room to wait for my stylist.

I touched the freshly cut bangs and got down from the bench to look at myself in the mirror. My hair now fell to about halfway down my back and the bangs made me look...different. Kind of edgy with a hint of mystery.

"You must be Anthea," a voice said to my right.

I turned and saw a purple haired man with an elaborate design shaved into his beard entering the room. He held out his hand and introduced himself as Sarto. I shook it and he invited me out of the prep room to eat lunch. He sat me down on a couch and tapped a button on the table in front of us to summon a meal of roast beef slices in a gravy with spinach and lettuce greens and a dish of candied pecans for dessert. He sat opposite me and stared curiously at my eyes.

"They remind me hot coals," he said after a long pause. "You don't look anything like the other District 12 tributes I've designed for."

"Let's just say I'm a rare black sheep in District 12," I replied. "No one else in my family looks much like me."

He nodded to show that he understood and began cutting his roast beef smaller. He continued to talk as he did. "Ember told me that you are hoping to win this year's games."

I leaned closer to him and locked eyes with him. "I never said 'I'm hoping to win.' I **need** to win this year's games. The young girl I volunteered for wants me to come home alive. Her sister told me that if I come home in a box, one of the district's gamblers will have won his bet and he will stop at nothing to weasel his way into my sister's life. My friends had me promise that I will stop at nothing to win. Sarto, there was never hope about winning – it is a fact."

Sarto stopped cutting his beef and put his knife down. He stared at each other for a few moments in complete silence. I refused to break my gaze with his. I didn't care if he decided to default on the tribute parade costumes – I just wanted him to know that I needed to stand out during the interviews. A small smile crossed his lips and he leaned forward. "Now that's the attitude I like to see," he said. "In the 18 years I've designed for District 12, it feels nice to hear someone say they will win like they mean it."

He rose from the couch and motioned for me to follow him. I stood up and walked behind him, weaving through a maze of other prep rooms, past other odd looking assistants, and finally arriving at a quieter room away from the hustle and bustle. He held the door open for me and walked over to a locked chest. He entered the combination and opened it to look for something. He found a sketch book on top and closed the lid of the chest. He flipped the pages of the sketch book open until he found the entry he was looking for. Sarto gestured to the entry and I saw that he had indeed chosen to go with the standard coal miner uniforms. Baggy, dull, and predictable. But then again, the costumes of the tributes were meant to mimic the function and purpose of each district.

"As you can see, I had planned to go with the standard coal miner uniform," he began. "But I'm sensing that it won't help you to stand out, will it?"

I shook my head no. He took a step back and looked at me again.

"Are you opposed to wearing a more fitted version with a mini miner's hat?" he asked me. "I wish I could completely change the entire design but with the short amount of time we have before the parade, I'm afraid that's all I can do."

"Sounds good to me," I replied with a smile. "Thank you."


	8. Chapter 8

Everything kicked into high speed after Sarto proposed the changes to my costume. We ate lunch quickly and he summoned my prep team again to aid with the fitting. Ember helped me into the baggy jumpsuit and Stratus ran to grab pins.

Lapis retrieved the boots and crinkled her nose as she studied them. They were heavy-looking with frayed laces, broken-in leather, and thick soles. She held them up for Sarto to see and spoke up. "I personally wouldn't have a girl wear these, these, clodhoppers!" she said shrilly. "Can't we come up with something else for Anthea to wear?"

Sarto accepted some pins from Stratus and began pinning one side of the jumpsuit while Ember worked on pinning the other to match my body shape. He placed a pin between his lips as he pinched the front and back pieces of fabric together with his fingers, then stabbed the pin through the fabric. As he continued to pin, he prompted Lapis to give him a different shoe selection for me to wear during the parade.

She disappeared from the room and returned a few minutes later with some options in hand. One was a taller pair of lace-up boots with a thick 2.5" heel, another pair was flat soled with multiple buckles wrapping around the calf, and the final pair was a spike-heeled pair of pumps with a delicate ankle strap.

"Those seem better," Stratus commented when Lapis returned. "I'd personally go for the heeled boots since they seem to mimic the feeling of classier miner boots but for a woman."

_Sure Stratus, because all female miners want to nearly break their ankles in heeled boots. That's practical while being stylish_, I thought.

"We can make a decision once the sewing is all done," Ember said as he looked up briefly from pinning.

Sarto finished his side of my jumpsuit and Ember inserted a final pin into the hem of my pant leg. Then the jumpsuit came off and Sarto rushed to a sewing machine to sew the new seams of my costume. I felt cold standing in the sewing room with just my underwear on and Stratus brought me a robe to slip on temporarily. I thanked her as I accepted it. Meanwhile, as Sarto sewed, Lapis retrieved a long sheet of felt and began to construct a mini version of the miner headlamp hat I was going to wear. I watched as she placed the felt sheet onto a head mannequin and began scrunching it down to start giving it shape.

"Let's see how this fits," Sarto said as he rose from the machine. My robe came off and the jumpsuit went back on again. He stepped back and examined the current state of the jumpsuit before prompting me to put my arms to the sides of my body. I obeyed his request and he turned to Stratus for advice.

"Should the sleeve go shorter?" he asked her.

She pursed her lips together and walked over to me, tugging on the long sleeve that they had left alone during the first pinning. Then she scrunched the sleeve up and pinched the shoulder area of the sleeve.

"Well I like how the shoulders on her shirt she wore for the reaping were ruched," she began. "Maybe we could do that here for the shoulders and continue it down the sleeve. ...I'd like a 3/4 length sleeve on her instead. What do you think?"

Sarto came closer and examined the way Stratus had pinched my sleeve for a few moments. He nodded and instructed her to hand him some more pins. She retrieved the pin cushion and aided him by ruching the other sleeve. Then the jumpsuit came off again and Sarto dashed toward the sewing machine.

Stratus accepted water from an Avox girl and took a long gulp. She plunked the glass back onto the Avox girl's tray and shooed her away. The girl bowed her head before leaving the room. I had only heard about these people but never saw one in person. Avoxes were people who were punished for rebelling or disobeying the Capitol by having their tongues removed, so they could no longer speak. In addition to losing their ability to speak, they were forced to serve the tributes and people in the Capitol as silent servants who did as they were told.

"And we need to think about make-up and hair!" Stratus spoke up as she came close to me. "I was thinking a dramatic smoky eye to mimic coal dust and curled hair."

"You'd better start curling her hair if you want to add texture to it," Ember warned as he assisted Lapis with my hat. "That's going to take some time to set so it can hold the texture for the parade."

"I would go for a wavy look instead of curled," Sarto added as he brought the jumpsuit over to me. As I slipped it back on, he continued to address Stratus. "Curled hair might look out of place with the costume and I don't want her looking like a precious 13 year old. She's one of the older tributes – might as well reflect her age."

Stratus agreed and ran off to gather the tools needed to give my hair a wavy texture. Meanwhile, Sarto stepped back to look at my costume and remarked that it looked better. Ember brought me over to a full-length mirror to look at myself. It did look better – yes it was apparent this was a miner's jumpsuit but it looked more...refined, dare I say. As I stared at myself in the mirror, Lapis brought over the finished mini hat and temporarily pinned it onto the right side of my head. She took a step back and studied her work carefully.

"Do we have a smaller headlamp light I could add?" she asked. She stopped a passing Avox and asked him to check for a small headlamp quickly. He bowed and walked off to check for one.

Stratus returned with a metal paddle with mountain-shaped inserts and a large box of make-up. She began heating the paddle up and I stared puzzled at the device. What the?

"This is a wave hair iron," she explained once she saw my confused face. "With heat and and these molded plates, you'll have perfect, wavy hair in no time."

Ember appeared before me and held up my shoe choices for me to try on. I slipped on the spike heels and nearly took a tumble just putting on one. He shook his head no and mumbled something about them being all wrong for the look. Then the heeled boots came on, which were higher than I was used to, but more manageable than the spike heels. Ember nudged Stratus who put down the iron to take a look. She walked around me to see how they looked with my jumpsuit legs tucked into them and frowned a little.

"Better than the heels but not quite," she said. "There's pair number 3 were can try." She handed me the flat boots with the buckles and held my hand as I stepped out, rather wobbly, from the heeled pair. The inserts of the flat boots were cushy, making these easy to walk in. The buckles clanked together as I walked, despite Ember's attempts to buckle me tightly into them.

"Sarto, thoughts on this pair?" Ember asked.

Sarto nodded sharply as he accepted water from an Avox. "Much better. Easy to walk in, I'm sure."

"No kidding," I replied.

The Avox returned with a small light about the size of the bottom of the juice glasses I had at home. Lapis took it and asked if there was any band for this light. The Avox shook her head no and bowed before leaving. Lapis muttered that she would simply have to make do with what she had and headed toward a drawer in a wall storage area. She dug around in the drawer until she found a loose scrap of cracked leather and wire. She began attaching the wire to the light and formed the majority of the wire into a semi circle. The leather scrap was turned into a cover for the wire and the light was affixed to the hat. She pressed the back of the light to switch it on to make sure it worked and slowly, the light flickered on.

Sarto checked the nearby clock and announced that there was an hour left until I needed to be in my chariot with Jay for the start of the parade. Stratus began pressing sections of hair in between the jaws of the iron while Lapis applied eye shadows from light to dark on my eyelids. Ember was searching through multiple tubes of lipstick and kept running up to check a color against my skin. When they were finished, I was brought before the mirror once again.

Lapis had blended 3-4 different dark shades together to make a smoky eye, highlighting the dark red-brown color my irises. She added odd extensions called false eyelashes with tiny crystals at the base of the extensions to my regular lashes and curled the two together. Ember had chosen a maroon pink-red lipstick and added a touch of gloss on top to look more youthful. Combined with the soft, silky waves in my hair, I looked...pretty, for one of the few times in my life. The make-up seemed to highlight an air of mystery about me and with my side bangs slightly falling over my right eye, it all came together.

The prep team applauded loudly and began hurrying me to the loading area where the tributes would board their chariots for the parade. Sarto walked alongside me and jerked his head around as if he was looking for someone.

"Would you happen to know who your mentor is? Is it the lady with the gold hair?" he asked me.

I glanced off to the side and tried not to wince. "Uh no she's District 12's escort," I said slowly. "Our mentor is, how to say this, a Peacekeeper named Crestley. He's tall with red hair and...chances are that he's probably going to show up late or maybe not at all."

Sarto shook his head and said nothing as we arrived at the loading area at the same time as Jay's prep team did. Jay was dressed in the regular, baggy jumpsuit with a full sized miner's hat on his head. His hair was neatly combed and smoothed down underneath the miner's hat. He blinked when he saw me arrive and shoved his hands into his pockets.

"You look...different," he began. "Did your jumpsuit come like that?"

I shook my head no and explained that they decided at last minute to make alterations. Jay groaned and kicked the air in frustration. The prep teams paid little attention to us once they met up with one another and I was secretly grateful that they hadn't seen Jay act out. I pulled him onto the chariot for District 12 so we were ready but also away from the prep teams.

"It's bad enough that we're in the work outfits of our district but its worse that you look good and I look...mediocre!" he griped.

"Jay its not a beauty contest," I muttered. "Besides, its better than being covered in coal dust and naked."

"Yeah I suppose...but its not how I wanted to look for the first televised appearance back home," he replied flatly.

"Uh Jay? They've dressed all the tributes like this every year," I reminded him. "Everyone back home is not going to care since they already figured that its become standard protocol for our district."

Jay's eyes wandered away from mine and I thought I heard him mutter, "Hope she doesn't focus on me tonight."

I creased my brows at those words and was about to ask him who he was talking about when Mira sashayed over to us.

"Don't both of you look great! I love the alterations Anthea – if people start wanting miner hats like yours, it will be the start of potential sponsors!" Mira gushed as she clasped her hands together.

Jay looked up at the ceiling, obviously peeved that Mira forgot him entirely. I asked Mira where Crestley was. She sighed and pressed her neon pink nails into her temples.

"Can't find him, I tell you! So irresponsible I must say," she said. "I did tell him yesterday that he needed to be a better mentor and you know what he did? He laughed at me and told me to just get a drink and forget about it."

"Figures," I muttered so she wouldn't hear me. I snapped my head to the front as I heard attendees yelling that we were starting in 1 minute.

Jay focused toward the front and I stared ahead at the other chariots filled with our competitors. District 1 was already standing in their chariot with clothes bejeweled with thousands of precious gemstones and gold wreathes around their heads. Other districts like 3 and 6 were starting to get into their chariots as the gates to the parade route opened. Sarto dashed over to the chariot and pointed to my mouth before smiling with his own. I wished that I didn't have to play the happy tribute to appease these Capitol types but I had to. I racked my brain to think of people who had great smiles who could charm anyone they met and Cia popped into my head. She always had this sweet, genuine smile on her face that was so infectious that you couldn't help but smile. Colombe also had a heartwarming smile that made everyone dote on her. With both girls in mind, I returned Sarto's smile with a winning one of my own, pearly white teeth flashing brightly. He nodded and ran back to the area where the prep team were standing as the Capitol's anthem began blasting throughout the area.

District 1 led the line of chariots and their costumes twinkled brightly in the parade route lights overhead. Soon Districts 2, 3, and the rest followed behind them. The audience cheered loudly for their early favorites as they came out in their horse-drawn chariots. Then after District 11 took off, it was District 12. Jay softened his harsh look and seemed amazed at the sheer sight of the parade's turnout with every stand packed tightly with Capitol citizens. I lifted my chin up and flashed a smile as I waved excitedly to the Capitol, keeping the mental image of Cia and Colombe smiling to motivate me. Some of the Capitol women paused in mid-clap and craned their necks to get a better look at my hat. One pointed to it and began talking to her seat mate about it. The majority simply applauded or shouted at various competitors to show their support. I thought I heard my name a few times, which made me feel good about my current impression I had on the Capitol so far.

The chariots gathered in 2 arcs underneath the balcony of the president's house. The current ruler is President Snow, who endorsed the decision of creating and hosting the Hunger Games every year. He stood up from his seat on the balcony and looked down upon all 24 tributes in their chariots as the anthem died down.

"Welcome tributes," he said as he spread his arms out. "We salute your courage and your sacrifice. And we wish you a Happy Hunger Games. May the odds be ever in your favor."

The Capitol audience applauded wildly for him and I forced myself to smile politely for him, even though I was irritable that we were just 24 more sacrificial lambs to be thrown into an arena for the Capitol's pleasure. Once the camera panned on each chariot one last time, the chariots took off again for the unloading area. As we came to a stop inside the unloading area, our prep teams ran over to us and began congratulating us. Mira wiped away a tear and smiled, saying that we did such a wonderful job. Sarto placed a hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

"You looked like a winner out there," he said softly as he helped me down from the chariot.

I lowered my head to thank him, as I was at a loss for words.

Jay got off the chariot and glanced past me. He nudged me and said, "Look who showed up late."

I looked up and past Sarto to see Crestley emerging from a set of sliding doors, uniform looking more wrinkled and his eyes with a hazy look to them. He had been drinking. Mira marched up to him and scolded him for missing us in the parade. He pushed her out of his way and stumbled over to the group.

"Predicta-urp! -able costumes," he stated dryly in mid-burp to the prep teams. Sarto turned toward Crestley and Stratus started crying on Ember's shoulder. Lapis glared hatefully at Crestley and muttered something about him being too idiotic to sew anything better. I couldn't help but smile at her comment.

Crestley pointed to my hat and sarcastically asked Sarto, "Did you shrink her hat in the wash or something? Looks kind of wussy for a miner's helmet."

Lapis looked livid at his comment and it took two of the stylists from Jay's prep team to restrain her from marching over to Crestley and giving him a piece of her mind.

Crestley looked over at Jay and snorted at the sloppy appearance of Jay's costume on his thin frame. Jay avoided meeting his eyes and instead looked at the ground. I stared coldly at him, hating him for being self-loathing, hating him for being our mentor. He spit in disgust by Sarto's shoe and muttered something about stylists being a pack of idiots with fabric. Before anyone could say anything, he turned on his heel, headed for the doors, and brushed past Mira without looking back at anyone.

The other districts had taken notice of the drama, with some of the tributes shaking their heads sympathetically at us and the Careers cackling with delight over our misfortune. Mira bit her lip and quietly thanked the prep teams for their lovely work, as usual. She steered me and Jay away from the area and into the training center where we'd be staying until the start of the games. She pushed the button for 12 on the elevator and kept her hands on our shoulders as we stepped into the elevator. Her lips were pursed and her eyes were stormy but struggling to stay dry as the elevator shot up to the 12th floor in a rush. Once the car arrived, she steered me toward one room and Jay toward his.

"Make sure to send your parade costume back with an Avox," she said to both of us. "Dinner is at 7 tonight so please be ready then." Before we could say anything, she trotted down the hall as fast as she could in her noisy high heels. Jay looked after her retreating form and spoke up for the first time since getting into the chariot.

"What's eating her?" he asked me.

I shrugged my shoulders as I watched her leave. "Beats me but if has something to do with Crestley, it wouldn't surprise me."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

I was in awe of the room that Mira directed me to. The carpet was a beautiful gold color, the walls were a deep burgundy, and dramatic lighting fixtures hung from the ceiling over the bed. The bed was huge – practically big enough to hold my entire family comfortably in it. I dug around in the drawers adjacent to the bed for clothes I could wear down to dinner.

As I zipped up a deep blue dress with 3/4 length sleeves and picked out a pair of sandals for dinner, I heard a knock at the door.

"It's open," I said as I carried out my parade costume.

The door opened and an Avox entered with her head lowered. She glanced at the costume in my hands and held out her hands to accept the garment. I handed it over and flashed her a polite smile. It went ignored as she hurried out of the room and closed the door quietly behind her. Technically I wasn't supposed to be engaging the Avoxes in any discussion other than making them follow a command or clarifying something but then again, I couldn't bring myself to treat this girl as a lowly figure like some of the other tributes would.

I looked over at the clock on the nightstand and it read 6:58 PM. Time for dinner.

The food was even more spectacular today than it was on the train. Trays with roast beef, gravy, mashed potatoes, and 3 different kinds of soup were placed down in front of us at the dining table. Jay strolled in from his room, dressed in a button-down shirt and slacks. His eyes widened in shock at the sight of this feast before us and he eagerly took a seat next to his stylist, who was accepting a glass of wine from an Avox. I sat a few seats away from him and pulled my chair in close before placing my napkin in my lap. Sarto took a seat across from me and I noticed the two empty chairs for Crestley and Mira.

"Looks like it will just be the four of us tonight," Sarto said as he served me some of the tomato pepper soup. "Your mentor never came back to the Training Center and Mira said something about not feeling well."

Jay chewed a mouthful of roast beef and the juice began to drip down his lips. His stylist pointed it out and he quickly wiped away the mess with his napkin. "Hope Mira's okay. As for Crestley, good riddance."

"Is he always that much of a brute?" Jay's stylist asked.

"Eh ever since we met him yesterday," I replied. "I think he's miserable about being stuck with the worst district ever. After all, he's got to be from 2 if he's a Peacekeeper."

"District 12 isn't the worst district – not from what I saw tonight at the parade," Sarto said. "Both of you looked great."

Jay tried to hide his irritation since he was gypped out of a decent costume for the parade while I had been decked out to impress. I tried to ease the tension of the moment by pointing out that District 10 had dressed like cows and District 7 were trees again.

"Doubt we'd look good in cow costumes any ways," I said.

"Or as trees," Jay added. "Man, I'm glad we're not District 7! Every year they get trees!"

I sipped my soup cautiously to avoid burning my tongue. It was delicious and slightly spicy, which snuck up on you as you ate more. I took a few sips of my water and tried the rest of the feast. Jay stuffed his mouth with everything and tried to pace himself this time. He ended up looking less green and sick to his stomach by the time he put his fork down.

I put my fork down and looked around the table. Jay caught my eye and looked over toward Mira's room. "Wonder if one of us should go check on her," he murmured. Even though he wasn't saying who, I had a funny feeling that he was referring to me, since I seemed to be the one she was putting all her faith in.

I sighed deeply and looked over in the direction that Mira had gone after she dropped us off at our respective rooms. I rose from the table and excused myself. I walked down the hallway and passed my door, Jay's door, then Mira's door. I raised my fist to knock when I heard a sniffling sound on the other side of the door.

I creased my brows at the sound and strained my ear to make sure I was hearing what I was hearing. Mira crying? It didn't make much sense since she was already home and didn't need to worry about going back to the wasteland of District 12 for another year. But maybe...maybe I was being too judgmental about her. I knocked a few times on her door and waited for her to reply.

"Who, who is it?"

"Anthea," I said. "Can we talk?"

I heard a pause and the sound of a nose being blown into a tissue. "Yes dearie, its open."

I turned the knob and opened the door to her room. Mira was seated on a couch in her room, blotting away tears with a tissue. On the table in front of her were several dishes of finished food, stacked on top of one another, some of them dangerously close to falling over. Her eye makeup left long smudges on her cheeks and her flower ornament was askew in her hair.

"I, uh apologize for my appearance," she said as she smoothed her hair down. "What did you want to talk about?"

I looked around her room, which had the same burgundy walls, gold carpet, and oversized bed. My eyes wandered back to her tear streaked face. "What are you crying about? You're already lucky to be home – Jay and I are miles away from our families." As soon as the words left my mouth, I bit my tongue, knowing that they came off sounding harsh and condescending. Not really the effect I was going for after Jay made me go check on her.

Mira put down the tissue she had crumpled in her hand and locked eyes with me. "I'm not stupid Anthea," she said. "I know what happens to the tributes in the arena. I've seen people turn from the charming figures seen in interviews into complete monsters or in District 12's case, become reduced to sniveling, helpless figures."

This surprised me, especially since most of the Capitol citizens, escorts included, did not seem to consider the consequences of the tributes once they entered the arena and everything was left up to chance and the Gamemakers. Why would Mira care about people dying?

She broke into my thoughts, saying, "If you think I'm just another shallow individual who goes through the motions every year there's a reaping and a new Games, then you hardly know me. I don't care if I'm given District 12 or District 1, for Heaven's sake. It's hard for me to see innocent-looking people like you teens going out and playing each other for survival."

I lowered my head in shame after she spoke. I felt like an idiot for being so cold and judgmental of Mira, especially since she wanted to help but felt like she was losing with two tributes who hated her world and a useless mentor who was doing nothing to help his tributes survive in the public eye. And she had probably said only positive things about me and Jay to curious parties who had been asking about us after tonight.

"I'm sorry Mira," I said. "It's hard to not hate the Capitol after seeing how these people live so well while some of us have never had full stomachs or have been given so many luxuries in the way of clothes, electricity, and service."

Mira wrung her hands and looked down at them. "I understand dear. I feel even more frustrated because of your mentor. He isn't helping both of you with making a good impression and I fear for your chances of getting sponsors since its his job."

"I'm gonna have to just do things on my own then," I said. "I already realized that Crestley isn't going to get me sponsors so I need to prove to these people that I'm worth putting their financial resources into."

Mira reached out and placed her hand on top of mine. I looked up and met her eyes once more. "You aren't doing this alone. I will be doing whatever I can to help you and Jay prepare for the Games, with or without Crestley."


End file.
